


10 Minutes: Back in the Closet

by CMBYN (Pmzilla), Pmzilla



Series: Parallel Lives - Later, Peaches [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Call me by your name, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14565798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pmzilla/pseuds/CMBYN, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pmzilla/pseuds/Pmzilla
Summary: For the Call Me By Your Name 10 Minute Challenge.





	10 Minutes: Back in the Closet

_ “I’m so close...Tim!” _

_ “Fuck, me too…” _

Armie and I texted through the rest of that Summer of ‘16. Work (and Elizabeth) made the texts fewer and further between. Phone calls were even more rare - usually via FaceTime - I tried to keep it friendly, professional - but there is always one moment.

> “It  _ bit  _ you?” Armie laughs. 
> 
> “I’m from New York City - the only horses I’ve ever seen pull carriages around Central Park. The poor things are barely animals,” I counter, Armie continues to laugh, “Shut up, asshole. I hope Trigger threw your enormous ass at least once.”
> 
> “Silver. The Lone Ranger’s horse is Silver...Trigger is Roy Rogers’”
> 
> “Whatever”
> 
> “Ah...Tim, I miss you,” Armie sighs. And there it is - we don’t say anything else, but when we talk - if we talk - it’s like ‘I miss you’ can’t stay inside.

But then, Elizabeth would pop into the frame.

Then Armie went on location to India. 

Elizabeth was NOT into it - she went to Australia, but gave Mumbai a wide berth. While he was on location, away from his Wife and ‘Best Friend’...well, the texts were more frequent, far more flirtatious, and then we added back more FaceTiming - more flirting.  

In all, it took a week before…

> “Sorry - you caught me getting ready to go out,” I answer the phone wrapped in a short towel and nothing else. He’s seen me in less, but not recently.
> 
> “Hey - believe me when I tell you, I don’t mind.”
> 
> “Armie…”
> 
> “I miss you. I wish I were there - I loved the smell of your shower gel,” Armie half-whispers in the darkness of his hotel room.
> 
> “It’s Molton Brown, I’ll send you some for your birthday,” I deliberately misunderstand him.
> 
> “Deliver it in person?”
> 
> “To India?”
> 
> “Timmy…,” Armie pulls his white t-shirt over his head. I watch him thumb the button on his jeans. _ Fuck. _

...And just like that, I’ve lost this round, because he whispers, calls my name - sounds needy. I remember what it sounded like when we were together. I am a victim of my own nostalgia...and fuckin’ FaceTime. Because if a naked Armie Hammer is FaceTiming, and saying your name the way he did...I don’t think anyone could blame me for where we find ourselves in embarrassingly short time.

“ _Fuck, me too...so close, Armie”_

_“Come for me, Timmy - come with me...now!”_

We are - in every way - such a mess.


End file.
